The wind whipped his sable hair around his face.
He seemed to be communing with the abyss, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the clouds met the churning water.
Seeing him so fundamentally connected to the raw power of the planet reminded her of the vastness of the man she loved.
He wasn’t just a farmer or a protector; he was a force of nature who had the freedom to rule the heavens yet chose to be anchored to this reality.
Idan finally stirred, his arms moving as he performed a ritual she’d never seen before.
Raising his palms toward the firmament, he launched an ethereal band of radiant energy.
He turned in a deliberate, slow circle, his focus consumed by the task, as even more potent vitality leaked from his sigils.
The luminosity almost blinded Sheba as the radiance blanketed the entire vista, touching the sky.
An intricate network of gilded spectral bands surged into view, running parallel to Tansinia’s ancient ley lines and weaving a shimmering tapestry that anchored itself into the very crust of the planet.
That’s when a wild truth dropped in Sheba’s soul, and she took a harsh inhale of breath.
She waited until he lowered his hands, the golden lattice fading away as did the illumination that danced across his skin.
She navigated the uneven stone and rocky ground, approaching him as the glow in the sky settled.
‘It was you all along, wasn’t it?’
Idan turned to her, his irises still radiating a persistent, amber luminescence, arching a brow. ‘You figured it out.’
‘The way this planet healed itself puzzled me for months,’ Sheba said. ‘How the people recovered from impossible traumas was inexplicable until I just put two and two together; the phenomenon coincided with your arrival on Tansinia.’
His eyes remained locked on hers, mouth quirking.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she chided with a soft smile.
He shrugged and turned back to the view of the churning ocean.
She stepped close to him, circling her arms around his waist.
She pressed her cheek against the broad expanse of his back, the residual heat of the power he had just unleashed still throbbing through him.
While his calloused hands settled on hers, his gaze fixed on the savage horizon.
‘I didn’t mention it because the act of being a benevolent god possesses an inherent selfishness, even if the intent remains protective. In essence, I stripped the people and the wildlife of a measure of their agency by forcing this grace upon them. ButI refuse to regret it. This soil deserves every ounce of divinity I can offer because it saved my soul. By releasing mySughrikhathealing into the meridians, I ensure Tansinia stays insulated once we depart.’
Sheba tightened her hold, then moved around to face him.
She pulled his head down, claiming his mouth in a long kiss overflowing with raw devotion.
When she finally broke away, she kept her hands on his chest.
‘I approve,’ she whispered. ‘Do you plan on performing the same feat on Dunia?’
He shrugged, a brief flash of a smile ghosting across his lips. ‘Perhaps. It depends on how that planet treats me.’
‘I should warn you,’ Sheba teased, her hazel eyes dancing. ‘Dunia has its own sentient caretaker. You might find yourself locked in a struggle for the title of prime guardian.’
Idan let out a resonant chuckle. ‘A battle I’d want to avoid, though I suspect I ought to establish a friendship with that entity before asserting my will, if ever.’
‘Wise words, warrior god,’ she replied, her tone turning sober. ‘Dunia defends its borders with absolute ruthlessness. I have witnessed it dismantle capital ships and hurl the wreckage into the sun.’
